


markings

by meows



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Creepy, Fucked Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meows/pseuds/meows
Summary: handsome jack would do anything for his baby girl.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is really, really nasty, y'all.   
> don't say i didn't warn you.
> 
> jack is a total creep in this.  
> i also wrote this before rhys's canon tattoo design was made public. oops.

it was fine, it was okay. this was all for him, and one day, he’d realize that, and just as he’s tracing fingers along the blue tattoos-- no, they're _markings_ , he was a _siren_ , he knew he had to be-- on his skin, he watches as rhys tenses up to his touch, uneasy, and he figures that the touches to his skin are probably foreign.

 

it was okay, he was just like his darling angel, but something was _wrong_. his markings were different, not reactive to the touch, they don't flicker between bright and dull, and they were blue, not white. jack can’t help but to question in his mind when his little angel had become this way, why the markings weren’t reacting, why the colors weren’t right.

 

 _impure_.

 

he almost wants to ask why they weren’t pure, white, like the angelic wings, and he gives himself a high five for the pun in his mind, because he’s amazing, great. but still, he’s bothered, because it’s not right. the appearance is even wrong, they don’t look like they should.

 

impure and _disgusting_ , he thinks, and he continues to trail his fingers along them, though rhys's breath has caught in his throat, and jack watches as the markings seem to halt at his hip, and he adjusts himself to get a better look, because he’s fascinated. “my angel, my sweet angel…” he’s musing as he pulls the waistband of rhys’s underwear down just enough to peek and see that they stopped.

 

something must be wrong, jack figures, because the markings are supposed to go all the way down. they’re supposed to keep going, all the way down to the toes, even. what was wrong with his baby? why did the markings stop there? was there something wrong? questions, without any answers swirl around in jack’s mind, and he’s searching now, desperate, because something happened, something was wrong with angel, his world, his light.

 

jack doesn't even pay attention to the way that rhys's eyes widen when his words begin to come out as more and more of a mess, more desperate, like he's losing something.

 

"i... i can't, no, i _won't_ look at you like that, i _can't_..." and jack’s eyes trace his body, almost like a complete invasion of privacy. “but, baby, they’re not supposed to stop… i… what’s wrong, honey? tell daddy what he can do to help you.”

 

rhys almost has to wonder what's happening, because something is wrong, and something is going on inside of jack's head, twisted as it may be. and then, that's when jack snaps, pulling the remainder of rhys's clothing off. he looks almost disheartened, rhys doesn’t feel any pity, because this is something that shouldn’t be happening. jack practically worships at his tattoos, kissing at them, and it makes rhys’s stomach turn when he’s whispering chants of angel’s name onto his skin.

 

it’s fucked up, rhys knows, though he wouldn’t say anything to jack. jack was fucked up, too, and though he couldn’t see the inner workings of the man’s mind, he knew that there were a few gears that were missing. he knew that jack was probably a broken hearted man, just trying to find some sort of solace.

 

that’s what rhys tried to tell himself, anyway. no denying that this entire thing was extremely uncomfortable for him, though.  
  
“because you’re my baby girl, my entire world, i’ll do anything for you, angel.”  
  
rhys swallows, watching as jack walks over to a table and picks up a small vial of liquified eridium. rhys doesn’t even bother hiding the fact that he’s trembling, because this is wrong and absolutely terrifying. jack notices, though, and then the pet names and the gentlest touches graced his skin.

 

"baby, _honey_ ," jack coos, and he's making justifications of his actions, "this will feel good, okay? i just need to test this out, make sure that the eridium will work for you." a kiss, light on his neck, and jack's fingertips are like feathers against his tattoos while his free hand is opening his mouth up with his thumb, and for a moment, rhys follows jack’s orders, but the pain in his stomach almost makes him shiver again, because this is going to hurt.

 

rhys knows that he's not supposed to pull away or move, but he struggles, and jack holds his face tightly, moves his other hand up to hold the back of his head, thread fingers through his hair and pulls, because that’s the only way that he’s going to listen. that’s the only way that he’s going to be _good_.

 

"i _said_ ," jack is gritting through his teeth, "this will feel good. can't you see that i'm doing everything for you?"

 

his mouth falls open, and jack pours the glowing purple liquid down his throat, and rhys feels it beginning to burn him from the inside, and it's moving into him quickly. jack rewards him by letting go of his hair, by smiling at him and placing another kiss to his neck.

 

it feels like fire on his skin.

 

"i'll do anything for you, baby girl," jack says, and he's moving his fingers up and down rhys's thigh. his eyes never leave his, and then, jack clicks his tongue. "why aren't these markings lighting up?" he’s in denial, rhys knows, and he knows it far too well. jack looks at the tattoos closer, as if that will help, and he kisses them over and over, muttering something about being graced.

 

"because," rhys has the nerve to snap jack out of this sick fantasy, and jack quirks an eyebrow at the thought that he was about to try and make an excuse, "i'm _not_ a siren. these are just tattoos."

 

the way he grabs his throat in a flash has rhys burning again, and he's on top of him now, straddling him. "shut up! do not talk back to your father that way!" and then, he stops, and jack is shushing him, rhys's eyes are wide, scared.

 

jack notices.

 

"no, no, baby, i'm _sorry_. daddy's sorry, okay? you're a siren, you like the eridium, yeah? i'm doing it just for you baby, coming up with special ways to  give it to you."

 

rhys doesn't react, and jack notices this, too. doesn't say anything about it though, because rhys dosn't understand. probably won't ever understand. and then, jack is back to tracing the tattoos, back to kissing them, adoring him, but something is still _wrong_ , and jack reminds himself that there are going to have to be tighter regulations on the eridium processes, as if they weren’t tight enough already.

 

"you're still not reacting?" with a sigh, jack walks over to the table and grabs more of the liquified substance, and rhys is struggling to move, to run away, but his skin burns, everything burns. even when he blinks, it burns him. “it’s okay, baby girl, it’s not your fault. shitty research and development can’t seem to get their job done right.”

 

he's not meant to even touch the eridium, but jack has a bunch of it now, and it's in a clear cup. "this won't be too painful, now let's get you to drink this, and drink it all. we don't want you getting weak. i wanna see those pretty markings of yours glowing."

 

the cup is _far_ too big, and rhys's hands are trembling when he takes it, and he nearly drops it, but jack catches it, and he sighs in disapproval.

 

"i'm going to have to make you drink it again, aren't i? you know i don't like hurting you. i'm doing all i can and you can't even drink a single drop of eridium." and he pulls rhys's hair, and rhys's mouth opens up for him, and he's slowly pouring the liquid down his throat. it burns, and he’s certain that jack can tell that he’s in pain, but he whispers, “don’t make me get the collar, you know i don’t like using it on you, baby.”

 

rhys is gripping at anything that he can grab onto, his legs moving, kicking. he wants to _scream_ , but he can't, because his jaw has gone lax. he can almost feel his bones and organs turning into nothing, feels like he’s melting. it’s a pain so intense that he’s digging his fingernails, grown out more than he’d like, into his palms hard enough that they’re bleeding, and even that doesn’t stop jack.

 

"shh, you can hold on to daddy," jack says, and his voice is _soft_ , comforting. rhys knows that he's not thinking of him, he'd never talk to him like that. jack closes his eyes, he knows exactly what his baby girl needs, what she needs to keep her alive. he leans over and kisses rhys’s -- _angel’s_ \-- cheek lightly, lips but a ghost to rhys. jack’s breath is a bit labored, rhys notices, and for a moment, he’s certain that he sees all sorts of pain in his eyes. jack begins to shush rhys as he drinks the last of the eridium, and he’s cradling him in his arms, singing him a lullaby of some sort.

 

she still needs him. she still needs him to help her.

 

he is a good father. he is the best. his angel is _happy_.

 

rhys is absolutely on fire now, and he's crying. it hurts far too much, and he's pretty sure that his heart beating as fast as it is isn't a good sign, but jack is shushing him and telling him that he's doing really well. rhys wishes that he was a siren, because it probably wouldn’t hurt as much then. the pain is searing, and rhys can’t stop himself from heaving.

 

“it'll be over soon,” jack says to him.

 

jack doesn't realize the truth in the words until rhys isn't breathing anymore, body limp in his arms, and it sets off every emotion that jack could possibly muster.  
  
"no, no, _nonononono_ ," jack is chanting the word over and over again, and he's patting rhys's face frantically. "not my baby girl, no, not like this. you can wake up now, honey. you can wake up, tell daddy you love him."

 

"i'm sorry," he's stammering now, on his knees next to the small bed, rhys's hand in his own, and he's kissing his-- no, _angel's_ \-- knuckles. "i'm so sorry, baby. you can stop pretending now."

 

those damn bandits. they did this. they poisoned his eridium supply, and the bastards in research and development didn't even test it out, didn't see if there was something wrong. he’d kill them all himself.

 

"angel, angel, _please_ , baby."

 

desperate pleas quickly turn, not into anger, but into extreme bouts of sorrow, and his fingers thread through rhys's -- _angel's_ \-- hair lightly. "baby, you love me, don't you? i love you, _i love you so much_. my angel, my baby girl."

 

jack hums a bit, and then he inhales deeply, exhaling as he walks away.

 

"i'll see you in the morning, baby. we can finally spend the day together, just like you wanted. see, angel? it's all for you. i'll do anything for you."


End file.
